Yesterday, my brother and I took his wife to the airport and then drove back to my parents' house. He wanted me to go with him to a local bar and watch the rest of the Super Bowl. To me, going to this particular bar on a regular day is a horrible idea. It is infested with people I (we) went to high school with, they stayed in Lake Ridge and work out at Gold's Gym a lot because it is in the same shopping center as this bar and most of them think that they're the shit - despite the fact that they have done absofuckinglutely nothing with their lives. They still live in Lake Ridge for buddhasakes.
I love Joseph, and out of all my siblings we probably have the most in common, despite the fourteen (fifteen?) year age difference. But instead of being nice to him, I did something selfish, because nothing is worse than being stuck in the suburbs. Except for being surrounded by snow in the suburbs at my parents' house. So, I drove to DC because I had made plans with a friend. I then texted them to know when I was leaving, like I always do, but they didn't respond. Typical. Except they did respond. But during that drive my phone WOULD NOT WORK. It would not send text messages of make calls, despite having service. And so I arrived at said friend's place, or at least managed to find parking near by. And then I was flooded with text messages explaining how they had made other plans and could no longer meet me. Which is fine, except WHATTHEFUCK!?!?!
I contemplated just driving back to Richmond, but then my car got stuck, and I had left my shovel at my parents' and was stranded-ish. Awesome.
Thankfully, another friend was able to accommodate me. So I walked however far it is from Adam's Morgan to their house in Columbia Heights and watched the remainder of the Super Bowl there with a small group of people. Perfect.
Except for the Jameson. Ahh, whiskey. I can't resist, and after the previous hour of my life, I needed a drink. Or ten. Whatever.
Me: "I will be 21 in ten months..."
Grumpy Old Man: "Do you know how I know how young you are? You say things like that. Do you know how many days that is?"
Me: "No, I'm not that obsessed."
Third Party: "That's roughly three hundred days."
The remainder of the evening was spent doing the following:
Discussing the memory loss of our fathers
Discussing why Baltimore is a shit/awesome town
Discussing why Mark's house is better than Joel's house
Wondering how and why I'm friends with either of them
Almost knocking the glass top off the table, multiple times
Discussing my "Annapolis Lover"
Discussing the reasons why heroin is a bad idea
Encouraging my desire to not get married/have children before thirty
Making an ass of myself by "coming on too strong"
Texting things I should not have been texting
Listening to Jess' beautiful voice
Watching 'The Big Lebowski'
Falling asleep during 'The Big Lebowski'
I still have not really seen 'The Big Lebowski'. I need to see it.